


a life in your shape

by CherryRedBomb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ;), Canon Compliant, First Time, I suppose this is also, M/M, Post 15x19, Post-Canon, also this was my first time writing nsfw, and assuring Cas that he loves him at every chance he has, borderline NSFW, copious amount of line references to lines said in the show either by or about Them, deancas movie night to start and family movie night to end :), mention of orgasm, my focus was on Dean having Feelings, still skated around it tho haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryRedBomb/pseuds/CherryRedBomb
Summary: A little post-canon drabble around their first-time together, Dean having some feelings, and knowing you are loved.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, mentioned Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 153





	a life in your shape

**Author's Note:**

> As I snuck into my additional tags, I've never written anything explicit at ALL before, but last night, the line "the first time they fuck is transcendent," popped into my brain and demanded to be written!!! So I tried! Any thoughts or comments are much appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

The first time they fuck is transcendent.

And Cas wouldn’t want him calling it that, but this is Dean’s brain so he’ll swear dammit.

It’s definitely because of that and not the fact that Dean nearly went catatonic when Cas turned to him on the couch, a week after he’d gotten him back from the Empty, a week after Dean had kissed him stupid, called him a dumbass, an assbutt, confessed his own love back--it was a week after that, Huckleberry on the screen in front of them, when Cas, who is already curled up and leaned into Dean’s side, looks up at him and says, apropos of nothing, “I want to make love to you.”

Sam was with Eileen. Jack had still been divinely AWOL. They had the bunker to themselves.

Still, Dean hesitates.

Cas shifts then, trying to pull back, but Dean had tightened the grip of his arm around his waist.

“Dean, is that...too much? I’m sorry if I-”

“No.” Dean swallows, feels Cas’ eyes burn into the side of his face. He turns his head to look at him. His voice is barely more than a whisper. “You can never ask too much of me.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Good.”

And then he grins, wickedly, in a way that sends Dean’s blood rushing south.

“Good,” he says, slowly twisting out of Dean’s arm, shifting to straddle him, pushing him back against the couch. “There are a few things April did that I’ve imagined with you for...some time.”

Dean starts to say, “April, wasn’t she that reaper that--” but then Cas shuts him up with a kiss, grinds down at the same time, and it turns into a choked off moan.

And then he thinks about how long it’s been since Cas was human before, since he was with April, since--

It’s a travesty to pull back from Cas’s heated kisses, but he’s unfazed as Dean tries to speak again, moving to his jaw, his neck. God, why can’t Dean just surrender to this, why does he have to ask? But he has to and he puts both hands on Cas’ heaving chest to push him back for a moment.

They’re both breathing hard. Dean’s eyes are on his hands, but he looks up then.

“For that long?”

Cas knew what he was asking. His gaze is steady, unwavering. “Longer.”

Dean’s hands twist in Cas’s shirt, one of his old worn Led Zeppelin tees, from the album he sampled from most for the mixtape he gave him. Their mixtape.

“What a couple of dumbasses we are, huh. Longer.” He huffs a laugh, staring back into Cas’s blue blue blue eyes, trying not to drown.

His hands shift to Cas’s side and Dean hefts him onto his back next to him. Immediately, he crowds in on him, pressing them together until it’s as if they were attached at the, well, uh, everything.

“Long enough,” he whispers into Cas’s ear, pleased to hear the catch in his breath. One hand wanders down, deliberately teasing. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

He doesn’t know how they make it to the bedroom, but after making out and fooling around on the couch, movie _fully abandoned_ , they eventually neck their way through the bunker.

Dean knows that Cas isn’t really an angel anymore--his grace already waning for months before, a few gray hairs spotted earlier tonight in that disheveled black hair--but when he comes, straining against Dean, one hand twisted in the sheets, the other hand gripping _that_ shoulder, his eyes glow briefly.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say it was sexy as hell. Nothing like burning through a little more grace to remind him that he was bedded down with a former _Angel of the Lord_ who had willingly fallen for him, Dean Winchester, a simple human man.

It’s disgusting, but he wipes them down with the Led Zeppelin tee--it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make in the moment in order to not leave the bed with Cas.

When he rolls back to face him after tossing the shirt, he almost has to turn back around. Cas has a look of such love, of such devotion, on his face that Dean almost can’t take it, blushing fiercely. But as has been the case over this past week, whenever this feeling rises in himself, he remembers that room, 7B, and the thought that Cas would never know, the shock that Cas thought he couldn’t have it, the devastating confirmation that Cas always had…

He rolls back to face him, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek. Cas leans into it, eyes closing, such a sweet smile on his face.

“I love you,” Dean whispers, reverently, because he can now. Because Cas needs to know everyday. He needs to never doubt it.

Cas brings a hand up over Dean’s, turns his head to kiss his palm. His eyes open to meet his own. “I love you, too,” he says back, just as hopelessly in love.

And with this, Dean tugs him closer, turns him and snuggles in. He reaches blindly to yank a sheet, some blankets, over them and then brings his hand back to interlock fingers with Cas over his chest. They spoon naked under the covers, content. In love. Safe.

Dean feels Cas’s breaths begin to even out, feels him drifting off, and he takes the moment to lean in, kiss his ear, and say “I’ll watch over you.”

…

A few weeks later, Dean is in the kitchen making popcorn, and never in his life has he felt so content.

He’s thought that almost every day since getting Cas back, but every day it feels just as true. Since he felt finally, truly free, and began the rest of his life on _his_ terms.

The conversation is just distant enough to be indecipherable, but he lets himself drift on Jack’s tones of childish joy, Sam’s warm and sure voice, Eileen’s giggles, and Cas’s deep rumbling laughter that hits somewhere deep in Dean every time he hears it.

He has his family and they have him. The world isn’t ending, he doesn’t need a goddamn drink, hasn’t seen a demon or angel besides his own in over a month, and...god, Dean is content.

The final kernel pops and Dean’s mind returns to the task at hand. He hears Cas yell, “I heard that Dean! Come on and join us!”

Juggling three bowls, he makes his way to the Dean cave (it’s got the best TV set-up, hands-down) and passes two off to Jack and then Sam and Eileen. He’s smiling over everyone, feeling like the goddamn sun, not wanting to sit down just yet as he basks in this little cozy corner of the people he cares about most.

Then he sees what Cas has paused on the TV.

“Riverdale?” Dean frowns.

Cas learned too damn well from Sam. He turns puppy-dog eyes on Dean, cranked to 100, and then--

“I thought I could never ask too much of you.”

Dean blushes so hard (Cas is sitting on the same damn couch, he even--god, he even...spreads his legs a little, intentionally, the little brat, just enough for Dean to notice, just enough to not be weird to the others) and the eyes, too, really just make it a one-two hit KO, but--

“Nuh uh, man, that’s asking too much. I’ll take our popcorn and go dig out True Romance or something more substantive than this stuff.”

Dean holds the popcorn protectively and stares Cas down. Cas stares back, but the puppy-dog look is gone.

He’s full poker-face now and Dean would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit concerned. Sam takes a nervous sip of kombucha. Jack munches obliviously on his own popcorn.

Cas looks down at his hands, playing with the remote for a moment, before deadpanning, “Or I guess that only applies to sex.”

Sam spit-takes. Eileen laughs, a choked giggle of a thing. Jack just looks affectionately confused. Dean didn’t think he could blush harder, but his face would beat out a tomato right now for redness.

He grumbles. He blushes some more. He considers addressing the statement, starts and stops, before he finally just walks the rest of the way over to the couch and sprawls across Cas’s lap, holding the bowl of popcorn on his stomach.

“The things I do for LOVE,” he says overdramatically, but the smile Cas gives him, like they’re the only two people in the room, in the world, is worth it.


End file.
